Juncture
by Sache8
Summary: Resolve. Frustration. Mystery. Purpose. Hope. Courage. How many lives are touched by the power of one moment? Jack and Daniel step through the gate for the first time.


**TITLE**- Juncture

**AUTHOR**- Sache8

**RATING**- G

**GENRE**- Vignette

**SUMMARY**- Resolve. Frustration. Mystery. Purpose. Hope. Courage. How many lives are touched by the power of one moment? Jack and Daniel step through the gate for the first time.

**DISCLAIMER**- Stargate? Mine? Yeah right! Who wants to do all that scientific research? ;-)

**DEDICATION**- Thanks to Brad Wright, Michael Greenburg, MGM, and all those other dozens of folks who make Stargate its wonderful self. Most particularly, though, thanks to Roland Emmerich, the man who started it all. I hope this story takes you back!

* * *

**JUNCTURE**

_

By Sache8

_

* * *

_**Resolve**_

Sweaty hands clamped around the weapon with resolution. Despite the cold, numb, indifference that had become his world of late, not even Jack O'Neill could repress a twinge of apprehension. Okay, truth be told, the prospect before him was downright terrifying. But he mustn't let his men see that.

He strode steadily forward with a confidence that belied his inner turmoil. All day he had been thinking of Sara, wondering if he should have said something, relieved he hadn't had to, trying to convince himself that his decision would ultimately be best for her. Amazing, the way sickening tragedy could turn everything on its head, the world upside-down, the picture of your life merely a haunting negative of its former self.

There was a time, not so long ago, when he might have pondered the nature of this mission, perhaps even have wondered if his superiors weren't going overboard the caution department. But now he didn't care. The orders had been simple. Simple had been welcome. Go. Ascertain. Destroy if need be.

_Don't come back._

Of course, that last wasn't written in stone. It hadn't actually even been _said_, but Jack had realized and embraced the very real possibility. He knew that not even crossing a galaxy would help him run from his pain. He harbored nothing but self-recrimination and blame. There was no quarter for forgiveness. Better to die a death of duty than to try and live life this way. His death was the only thing that could begin to atone for his guilt. But best of all would be the wide, welcome void of… nothing. No more emotion. No more memory. No more heartache.

Whatever this gateway represented to anyone else, to Jack O'Neill it was merely a single-minded means to an end. _The_ end. His end.

The brilliant surface of Jackson's stargate rippled like water. It beckoned to him almost serenely, like peace. One way or another, his peace lay before him.

He did not hesitate as he stepped through.

* * *

_**Frustration**_

Captain Samantha Carter almost threw down the phone receiver in irritation. Slumping back in her chair, she bit her lip and crossed her arms angrily across her chest. She wasn't usually given to such childish displays of temper, but there wasn't anyone around to see, so it didn't really matter.

Another dead end. It was confusing, not to mention hurtful. Of course, it was only because of Catherine's kind consideration that she'd known what was going on at all. She replayed their conversation for probably the thousandth time, a phone call that had been running nonstop through her head for almost the past twenty-four hours.

_"You mean you got it to work?" Sam's excitement was almost material. "How? What happened?"_

"It was so simple. We were just too close to the problem," Catherine replied. "A better translation of the cartouche was also helpful."

"And?" Sam prompted.

"It's as you suspected. So much energy build-up…" Catherine trailed off, wonder in her voice. Then she went on. "A wormhole, Sam. Artificially created, linking this stargate to another some billions of miles away."

"Stargate?"

"According to the translation, that's what it's called."

"A door to the heavens," Sam breathed, remembering. "It makes sense." Then she couldn't help but grin. "And I was right." Everyone had said her theory was too fantastic. Vindication was euphoric.

"Life support on the other side is viable. They're sending a team tomorrow."

"Already? But that's ridiculous! How do they even know we could make it back?"

"The archaeologist, Jackson. He says he can make it work."

"An archaeologist?" Sam repeated skeptically.

"A very interesting man. I think you'd like him."

Sam looked at the clock. "I'll be on the first plane to Colorado, Catherine." She began frantically throwing together materials at her desk, anxious to be on her way.

There was a reluctant silence from the other end, and Sam paused in her actions as abruptly as she'd begun. "What?" she asked, dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

"I already put in a request for you, Sam. It was denied."

Sam leaned back slowly. "I don't understand. Who's leading the mission?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"I've never heard of him."

"He was appointed by General West."

"Well, talk to General West, then."

"I did, Samantha, but he's a very resolute man. He wants only his people on this mission, and he doesn't know you. He's grinding at the bit just being forced to allow Jackson to go."

"I thought you were in charge!" Sam insisted.

Another pause. "Not anymore." Catherine's voice was more than a little displeased. "Besides, if anything goes wrong, we could really use you at home to study the data and try and figure out why."

"Of course we do," Sam bit out bitterly.

She'd called General West herself, which was more than a little bit presumptuous, but considering she felt more than a little bit justified, she didn't regret it. He hadn't been easy to reach, but fortunately her family name carried a fair amount of clout in Air Force circles. She'd never once tried to use her father's influence to achieve an end before now, but there was a first time for everything.

Including stepping into a wormhole, but apparently she wasn't good enough for that.

She'd never before spoken with this General West, but as Catherine had said, he was immovable. He had a certain way of viewing things, she quickly realized, one that was all military and zero science. Considering that a scientific persuasion was the only thing Sam could rightfully use without risking insubordination, this proved was utterly useless. Not only was he resolute in his refusal to allow her to go, he wouldn't even permit her to come to the base the next day to witness the mission. Her skills, he'd said, were far more useful at the Pentagon.

Everything else she'd tried had proven equally fruitless. With a project this secret, it was difficult to go through channels. There wasn't much she'd been able to do.

She wondered if they'd gone yet. Catherine had not mentioned what time the mission was set for. She tried not to resent these men— this Jack O'Neill and this Daniel Jackson. They couldn't have known about the stargate for very long, else she would have known them, probably very well. And yet they were the ones living out her dream of the past two years. 

Forcing herself to resign to the disappointing circumstances, she tried to reassure herself that it couldn't last. She'd been too heavily involved in this research. She'd designed the dialing program, for heaven's sake! No, she insisted inwardly, this wouldn't last. She'd be back, somehow.

They couldn't ignore her forever.

* * *

_**Mystery**_

Retirement.

It was a word that had beckoned to General George Hammond with more and more appeal over the years, but never so strongly as now, as he chuckled and smiled down at the wrinkled, pink face of his brand new granddaughter, Kayla.

Two beautiful girls now. They were his legacy to a long and fulfilling life, filled with its share of hardship but mostly filled with love. He wasn't getting any younger. He didn't want to miss a moment of these girls' childhoods if he could help it. A military career had robbed him of more time with his son than he'd liked, but soon he would be in a position to trade off on his service to Uncle Sam.

Everyone expected it. His family strongly hoped for it, and so did he. A couple more years, and he would settle here, in Colorado Springs, near his son and his family.

Ironic, then, that the only doubt clouding this rosy picture had also originated in Colorado Springs.

It was his deepest and strangest secret. Something he'd never told a soul, as he'd promised. Not even Esther. He still remembered every moment with bizarre clarity. The tremor of otherworldly fear at the sight of his handwriting, the recognition on the strangers' faces, his amazement as their leader had told him about his father's heart attack. 

Strangely, the event had never unsettled or worried him. He still felt at peace with his choice, crazy as it may have seemed to anyone else. For almost twenty years, there had been nothing but his own memories to evidence it had ever even happened.

Until Jacob Carter's daughter had started getting older.

_"My name is Samantha Carter, and…you gave me the note, sir. It's your idea."_

"Albeit one you won't have for thirty years."

"What?"

"I know this is kind of hard to understand, but— that's roughly how far back in time we've traveled."

After he'd first recognized her, he'd started paying closer attention. Later, when he'd been promoted to General, it felt like he was looking over his shoulder every moment, always searching for their faces. She was a bright young woman, Sam Carter, and had become just as lovely as he remembered her, and just as self-assured. He'd once asked her about time travel, casually dropping the topic into a conversation about other sorts of theoretical physics— things she loved to talk about. She'd had several speculations on the subject— theories of paradox and dimension and gravity… things he didn't rightly understand. 

But the others— three men. Unlike Sam, they'd never given him their names. He'd never yet met them, but the thirty years they'd spoken of were rapidly closing out.

There was nothing to do, he'd decided. Nothing but be patient and hope that somehow, somewhere, something would happen that would lead him to the resolution of his life's great mystery.

* * *

_**Purpose**_

Warm, dry Nevada air whipped through Janet Fraiser's hair as her car traversed another deserted mile. She pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose and checked the time. Almost two-thirty. She'd been on the road for over six hours.

The solitude was welcome, as were the wide, open expanses of empty sky. She was finally free of the tangled confusion of her former life. The ink might not even be dry on the divorce papers, she figured, but she didn't care. She could finally breathe again. 

Tom had never been a bad man, exactly, but Janet never should have married him as hastily as she had. She had ambition. He had none. She wanted her life to have a purpose, to be something special. He felt threatened by that. 

She wanted children. He did not.

In retrospect, it was so relieving to be free of him that she wondered what had taken her so long. Wanting to ensure the break would be neat and absolute, she'd requested the Air Force for a transfer. To where, she hadn't really cared. Anywhere but California. 

The result had been an open position at the Air Force Academy hospital in Colorado, and a residency to boot. Janet was surprised by how eagerly she was anticipating this opportunity. She'd never been delegated so much authority before, but that was probably because her former position hadn't had much potential for growth. 

Her experience, on the other hand, was very impressive, including the time she'd served in the field during the Gulf War. Those days had been some of her proudest, and thinking of them always gave her a great feeling of self-satisfaction. Saving lives in the heat of combat, the lives of men and women who would give theirs for others— Janet could think of few things more worthy that she'd done in her life.

Well, Colorado wasn't exactly the front line, but it was still a great responsibility. Maybe there she could find the fulfillment she'd been longing for. 

She pushed a little harder on the gas.

* * *

_**Hope**_

Night had fallen on Chulak by the time Teal'c returned to his home. The campaign had lasted longer than he'd wished. He'd told Drey'auc to expect him two days earlier, but he knew she would understand. The plans of a First Prime could never be certain. 

What he did not expect was a silent shadow sitting at his dinner table. "Welcome home, old friend."

Teal'c smiled, and bowed deeply. "_Tek ma tay_, Master Bra'tac."

"The word has spread throughout Chulak, Teal'c. Apophis has finally become strong enough to challenge Ra."

"Indeed. Even now Ra has retreated. We know not where. His primary mother ship will take some time to be repaired."

"I have also learned, that due to good intelligence and cunning insight, Teal'c, the First Prime of Apophis, was able to anticipate Ra's strategy and save a countless number of his brothers from death in an ill-advised strike."

Teal'c did not reply, but straightened slowly, then nodded his head.

"You have done well this day, my friend."

Teal'c put his helmet and staff weapon in their customary corner, then walked over to the door of the room where Ry'ac slept. Slowly, he pushed it open and gazed at the night-shrouded figure of his sleeping son. "Of that I am not certain, Master. Because of my efforts, many of Ra's jaffa were killed instead."

"You helped bring the conflict to a swift end, saving lives on both sides. This is a deed worthy of great honor," Bra'tac insisted.

"Master," said Teal'c suddenly, turning to look at him. "I remember everything you have taught me. I remember your words about how we must resist the Goa'uld. They are wise, but I am beginning to question if there cannot be more."

"What do you mean?"

"It is not enough, Bra'tac, to simply use our power to make life better for the Jaffa. The Jaffa should be free." He turned away as he spoke. 

"You know that is impossible. The Goa'uld are too powerful."

"It does not matter whether or not it is possible. It matters that it is truth." Teal'c turned back to meet his mentor's gaze, trying to convey his respectful disagreement.

Bra'tac inhaled deeply. "In your youth," he said sagely, "you still retain the hope that I have long lost." He seemed pensive.

Teal'c went on. "In the ancient legends, the Tau'ri won their freedom."

"The Tau'ri were not dependent on symbiotes."

"Nevertheless, their odds against the superior might of the Goa'uld were no less."

Bra'tac gave a careworn sigh and rose to his feet. "I must take my leave." He put a concerned hand on Teal'c shoulder. "Do not cleave so strongly to legend, my friend. If the Tau'ri you imagine in your mind ever existed, they are forgotten and lost. There is no hope in unrealistic dreams."

* * *

_**Courage**_

Daniel Jackson paused, wondering at the strange twist of fate that had brought him to this moment. Some people, he knew, struggled their entire lives in search of something wondrous. He'd only been searching for a few historical answers.

Adventure was a word reserved for fiction. Exploration, a word he associated with old, iconic names like Magellan and Cortez. He'd never considered himself particularly brave, but he certainly didn't feel like a coward right now. At any rate, he was committed. The others had already crossed through. He owed it to them to try and get them home, as he'd promised. 

He raised a hand, almost reverently, mesmerized by the glowing, pulsating surface, so strange and powerful. He half expected it to feel wet, but it did not. It felt strange, almost like… nothing. Even air had more substance. 

Catherine's words had remained with him during the wondrous events of the past few days, particularly when he'd so unexpectedly volunteered to step through this thing, surprising even himself. But she had been right. What did he have to lose? Before him lay a chance for another beginning. 

Adventure. He could get used to the sound of that.

_"Want to prove that your theories are right?"_

Slowly, and without a sound, the man who'd opened the Stargate stepped through it for the first time.

* * *

_**— FIN —**_

* * *

**A/N:** The origin of this fic is simple. An idle question, one day… What were Sam and Teal'c doing during the movie? It grew from there— little musings, reflections. What, exactly were Jack and Daniel thinking in that scene? What would _I_ have thought in that situation?

Today, I finally up and wrote it. It was very enjoyable. I hope it has been for you, as well. Thank you in advance for any reviews. I usually do replies, but this is a one-shot. LOL

Cheers!

Saché 


End file.
